


painting oceans

by writeyourownstory



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Drabbles, FISH CUDDLES, Ficlets, Fluff, Gen, Language Barrier, M/M, Mer Culture, Mermen/mermaid au, Yeah the rating will change probably, mer lionfish!Joe, mer whale!Will, non-linear storytelling, of a sort, sooooo much fluff, tags will be added also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25811191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownstory/pseuds/writeyourownstory
Summary: The Joe/Will mermaid AU that I created in the span of three days and wouldn’t leave me alone until I posted it.(Alternatively titled: “David Attenborough Narrates: Gay Mermen, The Fishening”) :D
Relationships: Joseph Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 24
Kudos: 15





	1. reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ealasaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/gifts), [yonderlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonderlight/gifts), [LadyCharity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCharity/gifts), [Xena1016](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xena1016/gifts), [Pavuvu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pavuvu/gifts).



> I knooooow I should be finishing dtgbna, buuuut. ~MERMEN~
> 
> I couldn't help myself? ¯\\_( ͡❛ ͜ʖ ͡❛)_/¯
> 
> (Tags will be added as I post)

Joe curses as yet another scale goes flying under his frantic brushing. He’s been at it for almost an hour and in his opinion his tail was not nearly shiny enough to be presentable. He needs it to be perfect. This was a special day after all.

Tom snorts from where he’s floating in the corner. “That would be number six I believe? If you don’t stop you’ll be completely bald from all that brushing.”

Joe hisses at his little brother. “Piss off, Tom. I just want to look good.”

Tom chitters as Joe begins messing with his frills again. “You mean for the mer who pined after you for _three bloody years_?” He shakes his head. “You’re being neurotic. You know he’s not going to care either way. He’ll just be glad to see you.”

Joe doesn’t stop straightening his spines, but he knows what Tom says is true. It’s just...it’s been six months and he can’t help but feel that if he doesn’t look his best, then Will won’t even look twice at him. Mate or not.

Which is why he was incessantly grooming himself. Will is coming back today. Everything needs to be perfect.

Tom mumbles something about _Every bloody time,_ but Joe stubbornly ignores him.

The call comes, then, Cooke’s shrill screech of _They’re here, they’re here_ causing Joe’s heart to race. He’s rushing out of his cave in the blink of an eye, swimming past a bemused Tom and exiting out into the reef in a flurry of movement. Tom is close at his fins, though, just as excited to see his best friend as Joe is to see his mate.

The whole clan has come out for the occasion, everyone floating at the edge of the reef just shy of open water to greet the incoming pod. Joe swims up next to Ben, the leopard shark mer smirking at him when he gets level.

“You look nice,” Ben comments, eyeing Joe’s tail. 

“Clam it,” Joe responds and Ben laughs, holding up his hands.

“Not judging!” The older mer assures. “It’s been six months, I would be surprised if you weren’t nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Joe immediately says, and Ben smirks again.

“Yes, well, tell that to your frills, mate.”

Joe makes a herculean effort to flatten his fins against his body, glaring at the older mer’s giant grin. He has the urge to swipe at his friend with one of his poisonous spines but resists. It wasn’t worth the hell he’d get from Erinmore.

He’s distracted when Cooke makes another screeching sound of alert (somebody has got to tell the sentry to choose a different way of communicating these things) and he sees approaching shapes off in the distance. His heart races even faster when the sound of singing reaches them—a specific melody stands out to him and he has to physically stop himself from shooting out ahead and following that song.

Erinmore is first to welcome the pod, being the clan leader, and swims out to meet MacKenzie in their usual greeting ritual. Joe waits impatiently as they exchange pleasantries (although the perpetual scowl on the orca’s scarred face and the stiffness of his black and white tail would suggest otherwise). They finish soon enough, though, and before Joe knows it the mer are mingling with one another. 

And then Will is in front of him and his heart practically melts.

The whale mer looks tired and happy and he’s gazing at Joe with such intense longing that Joe feels his fin instantly curl. The mer’s got several calves hanging on him, one clinging to his neck and the other hovering over his tail and it’s such an endearing sight. 

Will’s sister swims up, giving Joe a genial greeting hum and herding her daughters off of Will, all too aware of what is happening and not wanting to get in the way of their reunion. 

Once Will is free of the clinging calves nothing holds him back from racing to Joe, his long powerful tail getting him there in just a few strokes and Joe finally has his mate in his arms again. Will is all power and muscle and warm skin and he’s started a low hum of greeting that vibrates through Joe’s ribcage as he holds him close. The whale mer is nuzzling into Joe’s neck, face, hair, anything he can reach and Joe’s got his hands all over Will in return, feeling the pull of muscle and new scar tissue. Their tails twine, Will’s humpback hybrid far outreaching Joe’s, the dark navy of his smooth tail contrasting sharply with Joe’s vibrant maroon stripes. Joe keeps his spines carefully folded against his body as Will all but molds them together.

Will makes a series of low keening sounds interspersed with whistles and clicks that translate to: _I love you. I missed you so much_.

Joe squeezes him tight before pulling back and shoving their mouths together in a heated kiss. Joe’s fangs glide over Will’s soft tongue slowly and Will hums again, Joe swallowing it as he deepens the kiss further. Will greedily leans into it and Joe has to put some strength into swimming so he’s not be completely bowled over by his strong mate.

They pull back eventually, and Joe is pleased to see that Will is cross-eyed and dopey, but it’s not like Joe is much better though. He probably looks like a love-struck guppy.

“I love you, too,” Joe says hoarsely, putting his forehead to Will’s and smiling wide. “I’m glad you’re back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Timeline-wise: Takes place a few years after Joe and Will are mated; before Will moves into the reef permanently.)


	2. reunion pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Will take their reunion to a quieter setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE'S SOME UTTER TRASH ENJOY!
> 
> NSFW...sorta?
> 
> (Timeline-wise: Takes place a free years after Joe and Will are mated, before Will decides to move into the reef.)

Joe leads Will along the ocean floor to the grotto they’ve long since claimed as their own. He can feel the whale mer dragging behind, no doubt from the exhaustion of his long journey, and Joe tights his hold on Will’s hand.

“Just a little further, love. We’re almost there,” Joe urges gently.

Will hums to let Joe know he’d heard. He clicks out an apologetic _Sorry_ and Joe shakes his head.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he tells the other mer. Will’s pod travelled _thousands_ of miles before coming back to the reef every year. It always astounds Joe what Will was capable of.

The grotto comes into sight—it’s close enough to the reef to still be well inside the territory but far enough away to give them privacy—and it’s just how they left it all those months ago. Close to the shore but deep enough for the both of them to rest comfortably, set inside a natural cavern that provides shelter from the elements.

Joe brings them into the enclosed space, shivering as he adjusts to the cooler temperature. Will sweeps in behind him, humming and whistling as he looks around.

“I made sure no one bothered it,” Joe assures him. When a lionfish mer stakes their claim, you fucking respect it.

He pulls the whale mer the rest of the way in and Joe watches him for any anxiety. Will used to be bothered by confined spaces but it doesn’t look to be affecting him as much as it used to. Will just crowds up beside him, humming happily. They’re in maybe forty feet of water, plenty of room for his mate to move around and close enough to the surface if he has to go up for air.

Will hums and clicks. _Just how I remember it._

Jos smiles at the tired awe on the mer’s face. It was last year that they’d found this little haven. Reef mer don’t generally get this close to the surface unless they have to—preferring deeper waters and the protection of the reef—but Joe was more than willing to accommodate for his mate if it made things easier for him. Will could hold his breath for _hours_ , sure, but he eventually needs to surface and it‘s more convenient to have a place where they can be together and it not be an issue.

Speaking of—“Do you need to surface, love?”

Will shakes his head and whistles in the back of his throat. _Got some air as we were coming in_. _I’ll be fine for a while_.

Then Will makes a series of sounds that Joe can never quite translate right. He knows it’s a term of endearment in cetacean, something close to _beloved_ or _heart—_ much more intimate than _mate—_ he’s just never been able to get it right. Having Will try to explain it doesn’t help. Even Erinmore, the most cetacean-fluent of their clan, could not tell him.

Whatever it meant it always brought such a look of tenderness to Will’s face. He looks now at Joe with blue eyes filled with devotion—as iridescent as the shifting waves. It does something to Joe, makes his chest tighten with a sweet emotion. He can’t help it when his frills and fins jerk and wave in a curtained display all around him.

Will tracks the movement with interest. The mer is always fascinated with Joe’s display, constantly distracted by the color and the flowing tendrils. He reaches out and trails a finger along one of Joe’s pelvic spines and Joe shudders. He pulls away quickly.

“Careful,” Joe chides.

But Will ignores him as always, pressing in close and bringing them flush against one another in a bold show of certainty. It startles Joe—he’s afraid, always afraid, that he’ll accidentally stick someone—but Will shows no fear in their closeness. It’s not like Joe has never slipped and stung his mate before—those times were hard for Joe and he can’t let go of the guilt he felt at causing his love pain—but Will’s tough skin was an asset and he recovered quickly each time. It still doesn’t alleviate his fears, but Will was steadily and stubbornly breaking down those walls every time he brings them closer.

Besides, Will was becoming an expert at navigating around his venomous spines. To prove this the whale mer skillfully maneuvers himself just right and fits himself between Joe’s vivid frills, his long tail trailing the bottom of the pool and stirring up the sand below them.

Will brings his hand up to Joe’s face, caressing his cheek and gazing at him lovingly. He lets out a low, humming whistle. _You’re so beautiful._ He leans in and nuzzles into Joe’s face, moving across his skin. _I missed you so much. I thought about you every day._

He calls Joe that word again and…Joe can’t take it anymore. This mer was driving him _mad_. He grabs Will’s face and brings his mate’s mouth to meet his in a hungry, impatient kiss that escalates into something filthy very quickly. Their tails coil together, the contrasting skins providing a blessed friction as they slide against each other. Will’s got his hands in all the right spots—the sensitive skin on his ribs above his gills, against the pulse on his neck, just behind the third dorsal spine on his back that when touched _just_ _right_ —and Joe is similarly having an affect on the other mer by the evident curl of his caudal fin behind him. The low rumble emitting from Will vibrates through both their chests and Joe swallows it up eagerly.

They end up on the bottom of the pool, Joe splayed out on the sand and Will hovering over him. Joe watches Will’s chest spasm as he consciously adjusts the air in his body, allowing himself to lower further and cover Joe completely. The mer’s familiar weight settles on top of Joe and his instinct to bristle and flare up is squashed by the knowledge of _mate_ and _safe_ and _love_ and he is able to push it down.

Will is lazily nipping at Joe’s neck and in his haze of lust and stupidity he remembers that his mate has only just returned that day. “Are you up for this?” He asks softly, running his hand through Will’s hair. “We can wait. Let you get some rest.”

Will raises his head with a low hum, giving Joe an annoyed look and—ok, really? Joe was just trying to look out for his mate. There was no need to get so puffy.

Almost like a reprimand, Will dives back down to Joe’s neck—his kisses turning biting, bringing a groan to Joe’s lips—and he then proceeds to show him just how “up for this” he really is.

(They don’t last very long.)

Afterwards they lie spent on the sand, the water clouded with their release. Joe’s gills are pumping fast as he attempts to calm down, Will lying heavily on top of him and making the whole thing difficult. The whale mer was listing, bubbles starting to escape his nose and mouth as his chest contracts sporadically. The exertion ate up the rest of his stored oxygen, no doubt. Joe immediately starts nudging him to the surface.

While his mate is refilling his lung capacity, Joe makes quick work of the mess they made, using his tail to sweep the spunk and sand towards the entrance, clearing the area as best he can. It’s moderately better by the time Will makes it back down. The whale mer immediately grabs for Joe with his lanky arms, bringing him close once more and spooning him like his life depends on it.

Joe chuckles and stretches in Will’s hold languidly. “I _definitely_ missed that.”

Will rumbles an agreement behind him, a deep, guttural sound that conveyed his utter fatigue. Joe rubs the arm around his chest soothingly.

“Rest, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Will’s hold loosens only little but Joe knows that his mate is satisfied. They get comfortable, wrap around each other, become entangled—gods, Joe has missed this.

Will’s chest starts to vibrate again and he begins to hum—a higher note than he usually communicates with. It surges and drops, becoming a high keen, then low rumble, before rising again. It’s a complicated song that Joe doesn’t know the words to but understands by emotion alone. Its his song and Will only sings it for him.

Joe falls asleep to its melody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I totally copped out on the sex sorry >.<)
> 
> HERE'S TO ALL MY BABES IN THE OFFICER'S CLUB! YOU FUEL THIS NEW WORLD AND MY IMAGINATION AND I LOVE YOU ALL!
> 
> (Elasaid, Pavuvu - you are SUCH bad influences I love you so effing much)


	3. open ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The open ocean is a dangerous place. 
> 
> (A glimpse of what life is like in Will's pod on the open sea. Takes place on years after Joe and Will meet.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this series is helping me with my writer's block soooo much. (Stares at ch. 2 of dtgbna: I'm almost done with you love, don't fret.)
> 
> (Also, I didn't realize I had so much fluff to purge from my system. o.0)
> 
> (I apologize for the cuteness in advance.)
> 
> (Timeline-wise: Taken place a few years after Joe and Will are mated; before Will moves into the reef.)

A trail of blood follows Will from the depths as he makes his way back to the surface with the hunting party. He nurses his arm, a long gash splitting his skin from elbow to bicep. The pain is manageable—it’s the blood that’s the problem. Blood attracts predators, and their hunting party was a good distance away from their pod. If they got caught out alone like they were it could spell disaster. He needs to get it covered soon or else he could get his podmates killed.

Parry and Buchanan flank him tight, keeping an eye out for sharks or any other hostile mer. Sanders and Atkins have the outside, extending their formation and keeping their spears at the ready. Will’s got the ink sack strapped to his back and it’s slowing him down even more. Atkins had offered to carry it for him, but Will was the strongest swimmer of the group and they needed Atkins for protection more than Will needed relief from the strain. Likewise Parry and Buchanan stuck close since they were carrying the packs of squid meat that was essential to their pod.

It was a stupid mistake that got Will injured in the first place. Squid hunts were straightforward most of the time—herd the creature from the depths, distract it from a distance, then dive in for the kill. A spear between the eyes does the trick every time.

Will and Buchanan had been the distraction. While dodging one of the squids long tentacles they had collided, and in Will’s disorientation the squid had grabbed his arm and a sharp-toothed sucker had sliced into his skin before could avoid it. They’d harvested the squid meat at their usual quick pace, the danger of deep sea predators a very real threat, but once the meat was stored in their sealed packs, Will’s leaking wound became an issue that saw them hastening back to the pod.

He curses himself for his negligence. They were taught to be skilled hunters for a reason. Injuries out in open water attracted a multitude of predators and were to be avoided if they could help it. It could put the pod in danger—the calves especially.

Parry hums reassurances at him. “It’s not your fault mate,” the smaller mer tells him, his beaked whale tail brushing Will’s soothingly as they ascend.

Will doesn’t say anything, still fuming.

“If anything, it’s on me,” Buchanan whistles guiltily best to him. The mer has his eyes on their surroundings, spear at the ready, but Will can see how stiff the younger mer was and tries to relax himself.

Will blows out a small stream of bubbles. “No,” he says. “It was an accident. It’s bound to happen once in a while.”

Light was starting to penetrate the water around them, signaling their distance to the surface and the rest of the pod. It was only a few more miles now.

"Oi, you lot stop whinging over spilled ink,” Sanders reprimands them off to the side, his clicks harsh in the quiet. “We got the bastard, job’s done. We’ll get you seen about and that’ll be that.”

Will would take offense to Sander’s tone but the mer means nothing by it. Antagonism was the sperm whale’s way of relieving his own worry. A glance out of the corner of Will’s eye proves that the older mer was swimming stiffly ahead, ever vigilant and ready for any attack.

They make it back to the surface without issue and they can see the pod idling in the distance. Will hands the ink sack off to Sanders to take to the caravan and swims off to put a half a mile between him and the pod—keeping distance in case of attack. Atkins volunteers to stay with him for protection while the other two beaked whales head off after Sanders to relieve their catch, Parry promising to send someone over to wrap Will’s arm.

Will and Atkins head to the surface for fresh air, the younger mer allowing a Will first breach while he stays under to keep watch. The injured always took precedence, no matter the severity. Will’s head breaks the surface and he is assaulted with warm sea air, his eyes instantly adjusting to the brighter setting. The waters are calm and the sun is high in the sky—they’d been gone a while this time.

It’s not long until Steph finds them, breaching the water near Will and giving him an outright incredulous look.

“What the bloody hell have you done now?” She whistles, swimming up to him with a scowl on her face.

Will raises his arm above the water, showing off the impressive gash and the orca rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Where’s Lauri?” he asks. The dolphin mer was one of their pod healers (and much nicer to deal with than her mate).

“Charlotte was being clingy so I volunteered to patch up your dumb humped arse,” Steph clicks, bringing out Lauri’s healer pack. She waves him over. “Give it here.”

Despite her gruffness Steph is gentle as she applies a thick paste to the gash, a sealant that didn’t wash off in the water and sterilized the wound. She wraps it tightly with a bandage once it’s had time to sit.

“Well, good news is, you’ll live,” Steph hums sarcastically. Will glares at her and she snorts. “Bad news is, it’ll scar. But your fish’ll like that, won’t he?”

She wiggles her brows seductively and he groans and slaps her with his tail. She laughs and slaps him back harder, making him wince. (Joe _did_ like his scars, but Will wasn’t going to tell her that.)

(He also stops thinking about his mate because it makes his chest hurt and his throat feel tight with the need to sing.)

Atkins pops his head up, then. “Are we done yet? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, we’re done.” Steph splashes Will in the face, apathetic to his unimpressed stare. “Let’s go, fishbrain.”

Will sighs long-sufferingly, diving back down to follow her and Atkins back to the pod. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” He whistles after her.

“And _that’s_ why you love me!”

Will rolls his eyes. _Insufferable_.

“Any shark sightings?” Will asks the orca as they near the group.

Steph shakes her head. “No. Clear waters the whole time you lot were gone.” She snaps her sharp teeth. “Blake-eyed bastards probably headed back south.”

Will exchanges a look with Atkins. She was probably right. The last shark mer they’d come across had been the week before and the lone great white had kept a wide berth between them and the pod. Doesn’t mean they’ll let their guard down any time soon. Shark mer weren’t the only threat to them out here.

They are greeted by Lauri when they rejoin the group. The dolphin mer has her hands full with a clingy calf—who promptly releases her mother and paddles herself over to Will when she spots them approaching. The little dolphin pumps her tail hard, her tiny pelvic flippers flapping clumsily as she nuzzles in to Will.

“Hello, darling,” Will coos, bringing the calf into his arms. She clings on to his neck, squeaking happily against his cheek. Will hums back, a version of her song coming from his throat in a high-pitch whistle that has her squealing in glee.

“Why doesn’t she like me?” Steph whines pitifully as she watches Will and Charlie with jealousy. Lauri comes up and alongside her mate with a gentle smile.

“She does like you,” Lauri promises her. Then she shrugs, swimming over to check over Will’s bandaging. “She just likes Will more.”

Steph mumbles _Like every other calf in the pod_ and Will ignores her, burying his nose into the soft hairs on the tiny calf’s head to hide his smug grin.

He’s soon ambushed by his nieces, Lena and Kasia coming out of nowhere with excited clicks and whistles and cries of “Uncle Will!” and plastering themselves to his back. Steph has to swipe his spear from his harness so the girls don’t accidentally impale themselves.

“Girls!” his sister scolds them as she swims up after them. “Be careful, your uncle is hurt.”

The girls immediately loosen their hold, both of them eyeing Will’s arm and clicking out quiet _sorry_ s.

“It’s nothing, Ellie, just a cut,” Will reassures his sister. He looks over his shoulder at the girls, humming and giving them a smile. “Aunt Steph patched me, I’ll be grand in no time.”

It does the trick, the young calves forgetting their worry and immediately starting to chatter in his ear about everything he missed while he was on the hunt. Which was not much really, but he sits through it like the patient uncle he is, cradling a squirming Charlie in his arms and feeling completely at peace. The females watch the display with their usual fondness—Steph was even helpless to contain a grin.

“You sure you don’t want one of you own, Will?” Ellie asks, humming her usual concern at his lack of interest in having children. She may like Joe and think he’s a wonderful mate for Will, but as she liked to remind him—they will never be able to have children and she is more put out by that fact that Will actually is.

Will lets out a deep hum. “Why would I need my own when I’ve got these little monsters?” He bucks the girls as proof, smiling as they whistle and giggle in response.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Steph drawls. “I’m sure Hefina would gladly give you a calf if you asked her. She’s got a few breedin’ years left in her, doesn’t she?”

She bursts out laughing at whatever expression is on Will’s face and if Will wasn’t covered in children he would swipe her with his tail. Lauri and Ellie don’t hid their own laughs and Will hides a scowl in Charlie’s baby hairs.

The call for _meal_ goes up at that moment— _thank the gods_ —and Will busies the rest of his day juggling the little calves at feeding time and performing his usual duties. He ends the day floating close to the surface with his pod as they rest, gazing up at the stars and wondering what constellations Joe was seeing in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Steph. <3 Try to stop me adding her character into every AU I create on this site that isn't canon--TRY.
> 
> Also, hope I didn't play up Will's minor injury too much, but you gotta think--bleeding out in open water like that attracts SO much shit! #gottaprotectthepod
> 
> Are the names I made up for Will's nieces acceptable? I thought they were cute but I suck at naming things. *shrugs*
> 
> 'Hefina' is a character from Pride too and WILL WOULD BE LUCKY TO HAVE HER. XD Too bad he's gone on a certain lionfish (JK OTP IN THIS AU BITCHES)
> 
> I am slowly but surely adding tails to these characters. Did you spot all the 1917 characters? Totally adding in as much as I can.
> 
> ANYWAYS THANKS FOR READING THIS TRASH I LOVE YOU GUYS


	4. barnacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has barnacles. Joe can't stand this and takes care of the issue.
> 
> (Includes a full-tail massage and sassy Ben >.<)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be projecting a bit in this chapter because my massage appointment got cancelled due to covid and I am NOT PLEASED.
> 
> (These fishbuoys are helping me something fierce, I cannot lie. It's an addiction I don't want to get rid of! DX)
> 
> ANYWAYS ENJOY!
> 
> (Timeline-wise: Takes place years after Joe and Will are mates; after Will moves into the reef permanently.)

There are many things that Joe finds strange about cetaceans. Many mannerisms and culture differences that sometimes went straight over Joe’s head in their complexity.

But the one thing Joe could not _stand_ —the one thing that blasted whale mer seemed to carry such a dismissive nonchalance about—was their negligence of _personal hygiene_.

“I have told you _over_ and _over_ ,” Joe fumes as he takes a bristled brush to his mate’s tail, “barnacles are _not attractive_ , Will.”

Will hums from where he lay sprawled on his stomach on one of the grooming rocks, his long tail extended for Joe to have his way with. He blinks lazily at Joe. _I got most of them off._

“Yes, by fucking _scraping_ your tail against rocks or sand or whatever else you can find, you great big lummox.” Joe lifts Will’s caudal fin like it was offensive. “Look at this! Just look!”

The top and bottom are covered in small barnacles and algae, almost completely obscuring the white of the underside. There is also evidence of said scraping, the skin of the whale’s tail rough and calloused. Will shrugs.

_They don’t hurt_ , he clicks.

Joe gives him a look of restrained annoyance, trying to be patient. “I know they don’t, love, but that’s not _the point_.”

Will blows out a stream of bubbles in exasperation. _It’s not something we worry about, Joe._

“Well it should be,” Joe mumbles, working at a particularly stubborn barnacle in the notch between Will’s wide flukes. “These things can’t be comfortable. And presentation is everything. I don’t want my mate swimming around looking like a slob.”

_You don’t seem to mind most of the time,_ Will grumbles.

“Well, I _do_ , and I can’t stand seeing you like this—you’re _infested_ , Will!” The one in the notch pops off, finally and he moves to the top of the flukes. “Now hold still so I can get the rest of these. Then we’ll do a scrub.”

He hears Will groan pitifully. _You see what I have to go through?_

There a laugh from one of the other rocks—Ben, who was getting his tail scrubbed as well. By one of the actual groomers. (Joe will not allow some fancy little pilotfish mer to touch his mate, thank you very much. He can do the brushing.)

“You knew what you were getting into with that one, mate.” The leopard shark was grinning wide, showing off his needle-sharp teeth. “I tried to warn you! It’s all about looks with lionfish.”

Will makes an agreeing noise and Joe narrows his eyes. He yanks on the whale’s tail, nearly dislodging Will from the rock with a startled whistle, and gives the mer a tight lipped smile when he glares back at him. Will lifts his tail out of his hold with ease and lightly smack Joe upside the head in retaliation—his tail could snap Joe neck with one swipe, so it’s a good thing his mate was always gentle with him. Joe huffs and grabs it again, scrubbing furiously at the left fluke and grumbling the whole time.

“ _Thank you, Joe. You’re such a kind mate. Scrubbing my disgusting, barnacled tail, getting those krill I like so much, always taking care of me. You are the best mate in the world, I am so lucky_.” He is not sulking. He’s not.

Will lifts his tail again and Joe is really starting to lose his patience, but he stops whatever tirade he’s about to go on when he sees Will’s apologetic smile.

_You’re right_ , he hums, brushing his tail gently over Joe’s face. _I am lucky. Thank you_.

Joe tries to look annoyed but the smile he was fighting ruins it.

“Oh, _gods_ , you two are ridiculous,” Ben groans and Joe throws a rude gesture at him.

Will lowers his tail into Joe’s hold once more and he continues his work brushing the fin clean. Barnacles are stubborn—they cling viciously to whale skin and it takes a lot of elbow grease to pry them off sometimes. The brush only does so much and Joe is forced to bring out a pick to get the larger ones off. One on the underside of the right fluke is particularly rough and has Will flinching slightly when Joe manages to get it off. It takes a bit of skin with it and Joe rubs the area soothingly.

He eventually gets them all off, Will’s fin clear of the small crustaceans. He brushes over the flukes once more with the brush before putting it aside and bringing out the special scrub that Joe got that was especially made for whale tails. It had crushed seashells and pumice for exfoliation and fine oils for shine—it was recommended to him in the market the other day and he’s been dying to use it on his mate since.

He smears the concoction on Will’s caudal fin and starts to work it into the appendage with deft fingers, being careful to avoid any sore spots. He hears a deep rumble and Will goes limp in his hold, his eyes closed as he hums in pleasure. Joe smiles as the fin under his hands shudders, the flukes curling in on themselves as he works over the worst areas.

He works his way up the rest of the tail once he finishes, running his hands over the ridges along Will’s back until he hits the curved dorsal fin, scrubbing at the algae that has collected there. Will’s arches into his touch and he was practically vibrating with how much he was rumbling. Joe diligently works over the callouses and scars, the largest one on Will’s left side drawing his attention for a moment. His fingers brush over the thick scar tissue, tracing the outline of jagged teeth marks as a vivid memory of the day Will got them assaults him.

(He feels physically sick at the reminder that his mate almost died that day. Having to watch Lauri sew him up while he fought to keep his mate above the water so he didn’t drown. The gaping wound and all that blood—)

He shakes his head to clear the memory. Will was alive, he was safe. He could feel the warmth of skin and the pull of muscle and the pump of blood under his hands and knew that his mate was alive and safe. Will hums in concern—likely guessing what’s got Joe hesitating—but Joe brushes him off.

“It’s nothing,” Joe assures him, working more of the scrub in. “Your skin is just atrocious, you really need to stop scratching yourself on rocks—it’s not good for you, love.”

Will hums with a grin. _I will if you do this more often_.

Joe laughs. “Yes, alright! I guess I don’t mind it.”

He has Will turn over so he can get at the skin of his underbelly and with the way his stomach jumps under Joe’s touch and the hooded blue eyes gazing down at him in burgeoning lust—Joe has to say that he _definitely_ doesn’t mind it. Not at all.

The underside of Will’s tail is not nearly as bad, but he still takes his time scrubbing into the skin and massaging the muscles there. He takes special care of the pelvic fins, almost teasing the smaller appendages as he stretches them out, rubbing along the ridges and the splotches of white that resemble his fluke. Will holds them very still under his ministrations. The rest of his body is trembling though and by this point Joe is not much better.

“Does this feel good, love?” Joe asks and the deep purr Will lets out in affirmative goes straight to a place that warms his gut and makes his blood pump. He has the strongest urge to swoop down and grab one of those fins in his mouth and just _suck_ —

“Ok, I’m done,” Ben says abruptly and it’s then that Joe actually remembers the older mer is still there, getting grooming a few feet away. The sand shark grimaces as he hastens off his rock. “I came to get groomed, not watch you two rub all over each other like some weird foreplay.”

Joe sputters as the mer swims away, Will laughing helplessly underneath him.

“Ok, yes, I think we’re done,” Joe chokes, and he’s regretful because, damn he was really getting in to it.

Will sighs, a stream of bubbles coming out of his mouth. _I suppose_. He sits up, stretching his back and arms and Joe watches him hungrily. He reaches out and feels down his tail, clicking appreciatively. _That’s better than it’s been in ages_.

“Yeah, well, a little tender love and care goes a long way,” Joe comments.

Will smiles sweetly at him and leans down for a kiss. Joe has to restrain himself from deepening it when he notices the pilotfish watching them off to the side, chittering like gossiping dolphins.

Joe pulls back. “Why don’t we take this somewhere else, hm?” He suggests.

Will raises an eyebrow and eyes him with definite interest. He all but shoves himself off the rock to join Joe as they make their way to somewhere more private.

_Maybe I can do that for you sometime_? Will hums, all earnest and—bless him.

Joe turns and pats his mate on the cheek endearingly. “Not a chance, love,” he says with a smile. “Only _I_ can make this tail shine right. But you’re sweet.”

Will huffs a laugh, bubbles coming out of his mouth as he looks down with a grin.

_Then maybe_ , he whistles slowly, looking up at Joe through his eyelashes. _I can do something else for you_.

Will runs the tip of his fluke over Joe’s tail enticingly and bloody hell.

“You’re a fucking tease,” Joe accuses him, grabbing the whale mer by then wrist in the next second and dragging him back to the grotto as fast as he can. Will’s deep laughter follows him the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that massage escalated quickly. XD It got more sexual than I was planning. LOL
> 
> (My new obsession? Describing these boys tails, seriously)
> 
> I can just see whale mer as like, just being so unconcerned with their appearances I mean. Barnacles and algae and scars? Pffftt. That's how we roll, baby. And Joe being the reef mer he is, he is accustomed to certain...hygiene standards. It's like clipping your significant other's toenails, I'd imagine. XD 
> 
> (Shout out to Ealasaid because we so discussed this and I totally had to do it - and the meet cute is coming soon love! I am ruminating on it! Gotta get that shit RIGHT)
> 
> Thanks for reading! XD


	5. reunion pt3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has some late night musings.
> 
> (aka, just another excuse to write fishbuoy snuggles >.<)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dtgbna will be posted soon! (I keep saying that but I actually mean it this time? ;D) 
> 
> In the mean time, here's a short fluff piece filled with fishbuoy snuggles! 
> 
> (throws trash on the ground) ENJOY!
> 
> (Timeline-wise: Takes place a free years after Joe and Will are mated, before Will decides to move into the reef.)

Will wakes before Joe. It’s not surprising—Will’s sleeping habits vastly differ from his mate’s on a biological level. While fish mer have the advantage of gills, whale mer do not and because of this, Will only half-sleeps—getting small naps in here or there while part his brain remains awake to remind him to go up for air.

As it was reminding him now. Will reluctantly begins untangling himself from Joe, the lionfish barely stirring as he extracts himself from the nest of fins and spines. Joe shivers as Will leaves him, his tail flicking slightly in sleepy agitation. Will smiles fondly, reaching out to smooth the hair back on his mates head in a comforting manner, before carefully moving towards the surface. He keeps his tail still and uses his arms and webbed hands to propel himself upwards so as not to disturb the sand around their sleeping area. He breaches the surface, taking a moment to float and breathe in the cool, damp air. It’s dark outside the cavern, the moon shining on the water’s surface. It’s well into the night. He expands his lungs, consciously taking in air and allowing his body to replenish the oxygen that is naturally stored inside him. The urgent, sluggish feeling that had woken him disappears and he feels refreshed once more.

He dives back down when he’s ready, sinking to the bottom of the pool towards his mate. He finds that he’s still exhausted, despite the hours of rest he no doubt got. But the journey to get here was long, and it wore on him in the end. He can stand to get a few more days rest in before the breeding season truly begins and they are called for guard duty.

He reaches for Joe when he gets to the bottom, pulling the smaller mer to him once more. He’s learned over the years how to work around the many spines that cover the lionfish—through trial and error and many stabs and stings. Each time it’s happened, all of them by accident, Joe would be nearly eaten alive with guilt over hurting him. So Will learned, mostly for Joe’s benefit (he could handle the pain and the paralysis, he didn’t care as long as he had his mate) to avoid that outcome as much as he could.

The trick was to go with the spines instead of against them. He always angles his body so as to push the quills downwards, as gently as he can so he doesn’t trigger the instinctive reaction for them to bristle. Joe barely stirs as he does this, already back asleep. Will slides his pelvic fins underneath Joe’s and uses them to pull their tails flush against each other, his long arms pulling them back to chest. Joe’s gills tickle Will’s side but he ignores it, comfortable and content with Joe in his arms again. The lionfish snuffles in his sleep and pushes further back into Will.

Will buries his face into the back of Joe’s neck, nosing at the fine hairs there. His eyes burn with fatigue but he finds himself wide awake for the moment, reveling in the feel of his mate as he moves in his sleep. He’s felt so lonely, so bereft of the feeling for months that he doesn’t want to miss any of it. He’s finding it harder and harder to leave with his pod every year and this year will be just as hard.

Will lifts his hand and idly runs his fingers along one of Joe’s long pelvic spines—the same one from earlier. It was just as colorfully striped as the rest of the lionfish’s tail, outlined in thin frills and ending in a sharp stinger filled with toxic venom.

Beautiful and deadly, his mate was. Will can never stop marveling at it. But Joe was kind and smart and rarely used his weapons unless it was an absolute necessity.

It’s why Will can’t understand the stigma lionfish carry with them. He’s watched as other mer avoid Joe or Tom with a wide berth, afraid they’ll get stung with the slightest brush of fins. Joe obviously has more control than they gave him credit for but it didn’t change anything. The whispers that followed the lionfish through the reef from the common mer anger Will, more than the ones about himself did.

Joe tells him to ignore it—that that’s how it’s always been in the reef for his kind, and any other venomous mer that lived there. Caution was the biological response that all fish mer had, so there was no changing how they looked at any perceived threat. Still, it rankles him that anyone would think Joe could hurt an innocent mer _deliberately_.

Will sighs, a few bubbles escaping as he tries to calm himself. No matter. Best to put those thoughts out of his head for the time being. He distracts himself with tracing the stripes on Joe’s tail, trailing his fingers repetitively along the scaled flesh, following the dark patterns (he notes a few missing scales—signs that Joe got overzealous with his brushing again, the damned fish). He delights in the jump of muscles under his fingertips, the unconscious twitch of fins against his skin. Joe jerks, his gills taking in more water as he wakes from the sensation.

 _Stop. Tickles,_ Joe chitters groggily. He shifts, turning to glare over his shoulder at Will. _Why are you awake?_

“Can’t sleep,” Will replies, humming an apology as the smaller mer grunts in annoyance.

 _Did you go up for air_? Joe asks, like Will needs a reminder to actually breathe. Fish mer like Joe can’t seem to get used to the fact that cetaceans don’t voluntarily breathe for hours at a time, instead storing oxygen in their bodies and only going up for it when they need to. (Joe admitted to him once that it had seemed unnatural when Will would fall asleep next to him and his chest remained still. Their first night together, Joe had woken Will in a panic thinking the other mer had drowned in his sleep.)

“I’m not a calf anymore, love, I know when to go up,” Will clicks sarcastically and Joe grumbles.

 _You cetaceans and your weird respiratory system. Everything is much easier with gills, you know,_ the lionfish mer tells him sleepily and Will scoffs.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to tell my body that next time I need to breathe.”

Joe yawns. _Yes, good, you do that._

The lionfish then moves and Will has to accommodate his mate as he shifts and turns in Will’s hold, getting comfortable again and burying his face in the whale’s neck. Will is sure to avoid the spines like always, pulling his mate closer as the smaller mer sighs contentedly. Will rests his chin on top of Joe’s head, closing his eyes and singing softly—not quiet their song, but similar enough in his drowsy state to make it soothing to them both. It does the trick like always—Joe melting against him and going completely limp, letting out a quiet snore as he falls asleep again.

Will finds himself also drifting, half of his head going fuzzy as it slows and the other half retaining a low level of alertness—enough to remind him in a few hours to surface again. He nuzzles into Joe’s hair, twining their tails and settling in once more.

He was so glad to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I love figuring out the anatomy for these two.
> 
> Sorry for the UTTER FLUFF! I just needed to purge a little (needed to write the snugs SO BAD)--AND I wanted a little of Will's perspective in the reunion. These buoys are killing me, please STAHP.
> 
> Next up! A little of Ben (Richards) and a meet cute for our fish buoys! ^.^
> 
> (Yonderlight--I am working on one for Tom too, don't you worry XOXO)
> 
> HERE'S YOU SNUGS EALASAID!! ENJOY THE FISH SNUGS BABAE!! THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR HELP (and listening to my rambling LOL)!! (-.^)


	6. Ben (first meeting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Benjamin Richards (everyone's favorite leopard shark).
> 
> (or, Joe and Will's first meeting through Ben's eyes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE YOU GO EALASAID! ;) Some Ben for your awesomeness!
> 
> ENJOY
> 
> (Timeline-wise: Takes place before Joe and Will are mated; technically their first meeting.)

Ben arrives at the breeding grounds in the early morning on the first day of the season, the leopard shark mer gliding fast over the white sand as he rushes to meet with the rest of the guard.

The lagoon is a bustle of activity—as it always was this time of year—breed-ready mer mingling amongst themselves. The waters are filled with cetaceans and reef-going sharks while the mangroves closer to the shore were spilling with reef mer. Most of the first-shift guardsmer were already there, idling in the entrance to the large inlet. The podguard is also present, as well as the blacktip and lemon shark packs, swimming around each other and catching up on news and gossip from the past few months. Ben makes his way over to Leslie and Sanders, the barracuda doing nothing to hide his irritation as the sperm whale talks his ear off.

 _There he is. Late as usual_ , Sanders remarks with a disgruntled click as Ben swims up to them.

“Sorry lads, had a spot of trouble with the missus,” he admits sheepishly. Leslie gives him a sardonic look and Sanders smirks.

 _She sore you’re on first-shift today_? Sanders guesses. Ben nods.

“Lydia was hoping we could grab a decent spot this year, but with the way things are looking, we won’t get our turn until late tonight.” He grimaces. “She was not pleased.”

“I’d imagine she’s never please,” Leslie quips. Ben resists the urge to bare his teeth at him. The barracuda mer was very vocal about his distaste of mates—his kind breed with a single-minded purpose, a one and done kind of attitude. Barracuda were notoriously solitary, only gathering for breeding or patrols of their territory, so mates were a rarity for them. The cynicism Leslie carries with him spoke volumes of a past that may have involved a mate, but things obviously didn’t end well. He was a good chap though—once you got past his mean spirit, which Ben knew was all a ruse. His personality was a facsimile of what the reef mer think when they see barracuda—a predator. One they had a tenuous arrangement with. It was a sad truth, but the harsh reality of the reef. _Ben_ had no issues with the mer and always went out of his way to greet or converse with him.

(Mostly Ben got a kick out of annoying him.)

“Quite the contrary!” Ben boasts, delighting in the small twitch of Leslie’s eye. “If her responses are anything to go by, I please my mate every day! And quite _vigorously_ I may add.”

He gives Leslie a lewd wink and watches as the barracuda’s lip curls in disgust. Sanders snorts, bubbles escaping his nose.

 _She’ll have plenty of time for your_ vigor _tonight, Richards_ , Sanders hums, eyebrows raised pointedly. _For now, we need to set the sentries and assign patrols. And we’re behind schedule._

Ben waves at him. “Right, yes, sorry!” He eyes the crowded lagoon. “Where are Smith and Miller?”

“Rounding up the pups,” Leslie chitters snidely.

And indeed the two sharks looked like they had their hands full. Smith was busy herding his pack of young lemon sharks into something resembling a professional guard (Ben could practically see the vein throbbing in the older shark’s forehead from way over where he was). Miller was having better luck with his group of blacktips, but he was still having to break up arguments that could turn into full-on biting if left unchecked. Ben is grateful for the treaties that brought the sharks’ aid to their territory, but he still can’t help but despair over what is essentially his ‘cousins’’ antics.

Compared to the sharks, the reef mer and the cetaceans were nothing but well-behaved. Ben feels pride as he looks on his new recruits—Blake, a lionfish mer, newly matured with deadly spines and quick reflexes; Harvey, a large parrotfish mer with a strong bite; and...Kilgour.

Well, the spotted octopus would make a good sentry, if anything.

The newcomers for the cetaceans cut an intimidating figure as well. Three beaked whales and a _very_ large humpback. What that tail could probably do to a Great White’s spine...

Cetaceans train from a young age, learning as juveniles how to hold a spear or use their massive tails to inflict damage. The open ocean was a danger that called the young to arms early on. Pods were made up of mostly juveniles to begin with so Ben can imagine these recruits were well-disciplined by this point. Only now was their inclusion in the guard actually official.

 _Sharks should be on the outer rim_ , Sanders interrupts his thoughts with a brisk hum. _There’s more of them this year, so we can split them and the barracuda; have the sharks patrol the drop-off zones and the barracuda patrol the grassy plateaus_.

Leslie eyes the sharks with distaste. “Yes. Rather not be stuck with one of those this year.”

Ben smirks. “What? Can’t handle the pups?”

Leslie glowers, crossing his arms. “They talk too much. Bunch of fucking jabber-jaws.”

Sanders clears his throat impatiently and Ben gives him an apologetic chitter. Leslie hisses something rude under his breath.

 _There’s more than enough reefers and whales this year, we can pair ‘em,_ Sanders suggests. _Have them patrol the kelp forests and the eastern perimeter of the reef_. _Post sentries all around the breeding grounds but leave enough for the main reef as well_.

It’s similar to how they usually run and Ben is in agreement. Leslie gives his ok before heading back to the rest of the barracuda lurking on edge of the lagoon, his sleek tail shining silver in the bright sunlight as he goes.

He and Sanders begin doling out assignments, and when Miller and Smith finally join them—harried and completely done with the day already—they inform them of the areas they will be patrolling.

Ben is pairing reef mer with cetaceans, being sure to take into account certain attributes and strengths to create strong patrolling pairs, when he notices something.

The humpback seems...a bit preoccupied with Blake. Gazing intently at the lionfish, he eyes following the many frills and spines that cover the mer as they sway in the current. He looks nothing short of mesmerized. Blake catches him gawking and gives the whale a look of confusion. The shy smile that comes to the whale’s face in response is...surprising.

Amusement fills Ben. It’s not unheard of for cetaceans to mix with reef mer during the season. And honestly, the way the whale starts hesitantly posturing and showing off his strong tail, only for Blake to give him a wary look and slowly shift further away from him—it makes him think of the first time he met Lydia and how much of an idiot she thought he was. Before he used his superior mating skills on her and completely changed her life (as _he_ likes to say. _She_ likes to remind him that she was gracious enough to accept his mating dance in the first place when there were plenty of other eligible leopard sharks around.

He has learned not to disagree with her.)

Watching these two, though...he has an idea.

“Sanders,” he gets the sperm whale’s attention, not looking away from the hapless recruits. He nods to the humpback. “Who’s that?”

Sanders turns. _Oh, Schofield. He and his sister joined the pod year before last. He’s a decent hunter and that tail packs a punch_.

Ben hums. “Notice anything?”

Sanders raises an eyebrow. He looks again and it takes him but a second to notice the awkward infatuation the humpback was giving off.

 _Well, that’s a surprise_ , Sanders whistles. _Schofield’s a quiet bloke. Never shown interest in the other females before_.

Ben raises a skeptical eyebrow as Schofield draws tentatively nearer to Blake and Blake avoids him again. “It looks like females aren’t his type, mate.”

Sanders hums thoughtfully.

They watch this quite painful display for a moment before Ben leans in. “Want to make our usual wager?”

Sanders doesn’t look at him. He eyes the humpback with close scrutiny, before seeing something that he obviously likes, and nods. _I give ‘em a week_.

Ben snorts. “I give ‘em three.” He’s known Blake since he was a fry. The lionfish was nothing but stubborn.

Sanders clicks. _Deal_.

Ben smirks. “Let’s move this along, shall we? Oi, you two!” Ben calls to the two younger mer. Blake and Schofield startle and turn to them. “You’ve got the kelp forest to the north. Get going.”

Sanders gives him a look as the two younger mer hesitantly start to make their way to their patrol. Ben shrugs. “What? Thought I’d get things moving.”

He’ll be surprised if Blake doesn’t paralyze the poor sod before the week’s out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was writing a simple Ben POV chapter and it sort of turned into Joe and Will's meet-cute? There will be more of the buoys next chapter, but like--I couldn't resist?
> 
> (Lydia is the wonderful creation of Ealasaid and I absolutely love her)
> 
> Yes I made Smith and the convoy lads lemon sharks (FOR YOU PAVUVU <3). Miller (a random sergeant in the movie, during the first 15 mins--"You're going up a down trench you bloody idiots") is a blacktip shark and has his own little group. Lemon sharks and blacktip sharks are staple species of many coral reefs and, fun fact, have been known to chase off larger predators from their territory. So, along with the barracuda mer, the reef mer have created treaties with the clans for protection--in exchange for food, breeding grounds usage, etc. Me and Ealasaid have discussed it, and the aggression of shark mer in this universe will depend heavily on regional differences--reef sharks are more willing to live alongside the reef mer, but great whites, tiger sharks, hammer heads, bull sharks, etc. will be more solitary, aggressive, and less likely to form treaties with regular mer. 
> 
> Also decided to make Leslie a barracuda (yeah, again, Ealasaid is a BAD INFLUENCE AND SHOULD STOP GIVING ME SO MANY GOOD IDEAS FOR FREE).
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed this hot trash! More meet-cute to come!


	7. sick day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is tasked with watching a sick Will while Joe goes away for a few days.
> 
> (Antics will ensue.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! TOM!
> 
> Also, finally, another chapter! I've been so bogged down with work and school (my online classes started back so I've been burned out with homework) that the creative part of my brain has just been _bleh_. But I found myself at the massage parlor yesterday (hot damn I sure needed it) and while getting a fabulous massage, this little number popped into my head! This is part 1 of like 2 or 3, I haven't decided yet. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this nonsense!
> 
> (THIS IS FOR YOU YONDER!!! *kisses*)
> 
> (Timeline-wise: This takes place years after Joe and Will are mates, when Will decides to move into the reef permanently)

Tom shows up to the grotto where Joe and Sco have made their den to his older brother practically rushing out of the entrance to start the day.

“Good, you’re on time for once,” Joe greets him and Tom scowls.

“Oi! I’m punctual!” Tom complains—most of the time, he doesn’t add. He’s actually surprised himself that he’s here on time so early in the bloody morning.

Joe raises an eyebrow. “Uh huh.” He turns back to the grotto with a frown. “Look, I’m counting on you for the next couple of days. I usually take care of him when this happens, but I’m assigned to the guard for the caravan and we’ll be at the Northern reefs until the day after tomorrow.”

“It’s no problem, Joe,” Tom insists. He’s been on similar missions before—the one with Will a few years ago standing out vividly. (He feels a phantom twinge on his stomach where thick scar tissue still remains.)

Joe practically sags in relief. “Thank you. I really do appreciate this.” He starts to don his guard gear, sliding his long spear into the holster on the back. Tom’s eyes catch on Joe’s mangled left pelvic fin, the frills shredded and the spines snapped, and he quickly averts his eyes, a familiar guilt trying to rise up that he shoves down.

“He used to come back with this shite almost every year,” Joe huffs as he gets ready. “Since he’s started living here, he hasn’t had to deal with it. But he’s been watching the calves while the pod hunts, playing out in deeper water and—you know how easy it is for them to tire—he shared some air with them to get them to the surface. Apparently they were already sick and gave it to him in the process. Blasted idiot.”

Tom winces. He knows of the cetacean sickness that seems to spread around every year. It affected their breathing in some way—caused them to cough and leak this... _mucus_ , out of their noses. It was a very strange thing to see—illnesses in the reef mer generally revolved around other issues besides respiratory, mainly skin diseases or parasitic infections. Whenever a whale had the infection, they were out for the count for at least a couple of days, having to spend a majority of that time close to the surface to breathe since they were hindered. It usually spreads through them pretty rapidly—cetaceans were very tactile among their pods, always touching and hanging off one another.

They also shared air with one another quite often, breathing into each other’s mouths when they sense that one of them will not make it to the surface in time—Tom’s seen it done before with the calves and with the elder podmates who have trouble swimming. When Will was injured Tom witnessed Steph, Lauri, and Ellie each taking turns to help him breathe by sharing their own oxygen. Due to all of this, it was inevitable for any sicknesses to spread amongst them every time they travelled back to warmer waters, where cold temperatures could no longer hold back the infections and they took over with a vengeance.

From the way Joe tells it, Will gets sick nearly every year like clockwork. Unfortunately, it just had to land at the wrong time. The caravan is important to the reef’s trade and needs their best guards on the protection detail. Joe has no choice but to go, so the least Tom could do was help out.

“Alright, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. You don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of him,” Tom assures. Joe scoffs.

“Worried? I’m not worried—he’ll be up and annoying everyone in another day or so,” Joe tells him with a laugh. Then he pauses, hesitant. “It’s, uh, not the infection but—more of how he acts when he’s like this.”

“What?” Tom asks in confusion.

Joe looks sheepish. “He usually gets a fever with these things and—he acts a bit out of it every time. Tends to get into all sorts of trouble. It’s like babysitting a school of fry just...one fry who is way bigger and way stronger.”

Ok, now Tom was the hesitant one. He can’t stop his frills from flapping. “Does he get dangerous?”

“Oh! No, no, nothing like that,” Joe promises. “He’s just—he’s a handful, is all. But I’m sure you can handle him just fine!” He pats Tom on the shoulder, ignoring Tom’s incredulous look. He glances up at the sun and grimaces. “I’ve got to run, Ben’ll have my head if I’m late. I’ll be back in a couple of days, just—keep him here. I’ve left some food for the two of you, and Steph said she’ll bring more tomorrow. All you have to do is keep him occupied and make sure he rests and stays close to the surface.”

And with that Joe swims off, throwing one more “Thank you!” over his shoulder as he goes and leaving Tom regretting ever agreeing to do this for his brother.

He shakes the thoughts from his head. No, he can totally do this. This is for Joe (who he owes so much and would do absolutely anything for) and Will, who is his best friend and he cares for very much.

He sighs and shakes out his frills, heading inside the grotto and preparing himself for whatever he may find—

—which apparently is a floating tail. Wait. No, Will is just up the ledge that leads up into the cavern, his tail hanging over the edge into the water and swaying lazily.

Tom swims over, noting a large bag of what looks like krill and mollusks in the corner, and pats lightly on the humpback’s tail to let him know he’s there.

The tail shifts and then Will is ducking under the water, blinking at him groggily. He looks exhausted, dark rings under his bloodshot eyes and noise bright red against his moon-pale skin. His cheeks also have a flush to them, a sign of the fever Joe mentioned. He looks absolutely pathetic.

“Hey, Sco!” Tom greets his friend cheerfully. “How ya feeling, mate?”

Will blinks at him confused, then whistles, _Where’s Joe_?

“He’s assigned to the caravan,” Tom tells him (he’s pretty sure Joe would have told Will this before he left, but he doesn’t let it worry him). “He asked me to look after you until he got back.”

Will grunts, annoyed. _‘M not a calf. Don’t need lookin’ after. I told ‘im that_.

Tom holds back his laughter. The whale sounds pitiful—his normal whistling hums sounding congested and jumbled in his tried state. Tom clears his throat. “I’m sure you don’t, Sco. How ‘bout I hang out with you instead? Give you some company?”

Will seems amiable to that. He hums and slides fully into the water, floating close to the surface, his tail fin barely moving. Tom panics for a moment, sure that Will should be resting on the shelf he just vacated, but when he asks this Will just waves him off.

 _Uncomfortable_ , he clicks. _Gets heavy_.

Ah. That makes sense. Still, he insists that Will stay where he is when the whale tells him he’s hungry, that he’ll get the food for them. Joe’s left them plenty for the day and Tom happily tears open mollusks while Will munches on red krill. He doesn’t eat nearly as much as he usually does, though, making Tom believe that he must truly be feeling wretched. Once they finish, Tom stores the food away and keeps Will occupied with stories about the goings-on of the reef while he rests. Will doesn’t contribute much, but that’s nothing new, so it doesn’t bother Tom. Eventually the whale moves back to the ledge and dozes off and Tom is left to his own devices. He occupies himself for a while tidying the grotto and keeping watch at the entrance. He keeps a close eye on Will but the whale only sleeps on.

Honestly, it’s not as bad as Joe was making it out to be. All Will did was laze about or sleep. He seemed too out of it to do much else. He doesn’t know what Joe was so worried about—Tom totally has this.

Yeah, he spoke too soon.

Tom is starting to doze off at the entrance, completely bored with keeping watch, when something wakes him up. That something being a ten foot humpback trying to push his way past him out of the grotto.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Tom yelps, rushing to stop Will. He puts his hands on the other mer’s shoulders, trying to get his attention. “Whatcha doing, Sco?”

The whale keeps moving forwards like he doesn’t hear Tom. He is exceedingly stronger than Tom so the lionfish’s attempts at trying to push him back into the grotto is fruitless. Will is propelling him forwards with every stroke of his long tail.

 _Gonna find Joe_ , the whale hums. He’s looking around like he’s confused where to start looking for his mate. He starts heading in the direction of the reef and Tom sputters.

“No, no, Sco, we need to get you back inside—you need to rest!” Tom insists. He shoves with all his might but Will is not moved in the slightest.

 _I’ve slept enough, I want Joe_ , Will clicks stubbornly. He gently pries Tom off of him and starts to swim away. Tom hurriedly swims after him, coming up alongside him.

“Sco, Joe is on the caravan, remember? They left this morning, you won’t be able to get to him in your condition!” Tom tried to tell him. Will’s not listening to him. Tom growls and swishes his tail as hard as he can, swerving in front of the whale and flaring his frills and spines. “Will, _stop_!”

And he does—looking at Tom with unfocused, fevered eyes, and following Tom’s swirling frills hypnotically. Ok, Tom can work with this.

“You need to rest, Sco,” Tom says slowly, swaying his frills as he speaks. The whale doesn’t look away. Tom takes the opportunity to move forward and begin to push lightly on Will’s shoulders. The whale actually moves with the motion and, encouraged, Tom puts more force in it, turning the larger mer around and herding him back to the grotto. “Joe will be back in a few days, I promise. But you’re too sick to be out right now, ok?”

He manages to lead the whale back into the grotto, Will seemingly having lost all his strength. Tom breathes a sigh of relief when he gets Will back to the ledge. The whale, apparently having forgotten what he had been trying to do, heaves himself back up onto the rock and falls asleep almost immediately. Tom watches him for a moment, making sure the whale was actually asleep, before heading back to the bottom of the pool to get a snack.

“Ok, no problem,” he mumbles to himself, busting open another mollusk. “Got him back inside, didn’t I? No big deal, I totally got this.”

He’s just got to make sure Will doesn't try to leave again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2/3 done! More sick!Will antics to come!
> 
> Does anyone else get a fever every time they get an upper respiratory infection? Cause I sure as hell do. I modeled Will's fevered confusion after me, cause I always try to get up and do ridiculous shit when I'm sick and I used to run my mother ragged. HA!
> 
> Whales apparently do get like, sinus infections, but because they constantly shoot salt water out of their blowholes, it usually doesn't affect them long or very much at all. But like--my whale mer _do not_ have blowholes, so. Yeah. They can get sinus infections. According to my imagination!
> 
> (Will is also like basically every teacher right now, getting sick from their snotty students, so a salute to you brave, snotty teachers!)
> 
> I finally got to explore Tom a bit! I had a lovely conversation with Yonder (a local expert at everything TOM) and they provided me with SO MANY GREAT IDEAS GOSH I LOVE YOU BABE THANK YOU!! (*all the virtual hugs*)
> 
> And as usual a LOUD THANK YOU TO EALASAID FOR LISTENING TO MY RAMBLINGS AND BRAINSTORMING WITH ME I LOVE YOU BABE THANK YOU SO MUCH!! (*all the virtual forehead kisses*)
> 
> Thanks for reading my mer buoy trash!

**Author's Note:**

> This is for you EALASAID (saucy minx, you're such a bad influence and brilliant person), YONDERLIGHT (you are a real life mermaid babe!), LADY CHARITY (my merkoi sister!), XENA1016 (cause you are PRECIOUS!), and PAVUVU (cause you so knowledgeable about marine life and I LOVE THAT)!
> 
> Mer information:
> 
> Reef Clan (live on the reef and consist of a colorful variety of mer):  
> Joe - lionfish  
> Tom - lionfish  
> Richards - leopard shark  
> Lydia - leopard shark  
> Harvey - parrotfish  
> Kilgour - spotted octopus  
> Erinmore - grouper  
> Open Ocean Pod (migratory pod with a mix of cetacean mer - whales an dolphins and shit) :  
> Will - humpback  
> Mackenzie - Orca  
> Ellie (Will's sister) & daughters (Lena and Kasia) - humpback  
> Steph - Orca  
> Lauri and Charlie - common dolphin  
> Sanders - sperm whale  
> Parry, Atkins, Buchanan - beaked whale  
> Shark/Barracuda Clans:  
> Smith - lemon shark  
> Convoy lads (Cooke, Rossi, Butler, Jondalar, Singer, Malky) - lemon sharks  
> Miller - Blacktip shark  
> Leslie - Barracuda
> 
> That's all I got so far ENJOY! ;D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [Ealasaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/pseuds/Ealasaid) Log in to view. 




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